


Unleashing the Kraken

by Sereno_Nocturne



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-01
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sereno_Nocturne/pseuds/Sereno_Nocturne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is unattached. Misha is drifting one direction. It may not be Christmas, but it's close enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unleashing the Kraken

**Author's Note:**

> http://sereno-nocturne.livejournal.com

“So…” Jared trailed off casually as he nursed his Styrofoam cup of coffee between his hands. A drink that he was using more to warm said hands against the arctic chill of Vancouver at 4am, than as any means to wake himself up with.

Jensen was sitting wedged between the ground and the fallen tree – which Jared was perched on – nursing a similar cup of coffee. And where Jared seemed unfairly wide awake this early in the morning, damn him to hell, he was on his third cup. It may as well have been his first, with the way his brain kept checking out.

As soon as he had his fourth, he felt certain he’d be awake enough at that point to plot Eric’s demise. Out here in the middle of friggin _nowhere_ , at least an hour outside of Vancouver, it would be fairly easy to hide a body… wouldn’t it?

Or maybe he’d just find a way to remove the rest of what hair Kripke had left.

Jared was smirking as he loomed over Jensen, staring down at the man’s unresponsive head. “Jenny, you in there?”

“No.” Jensen growled in between going for another sip of too-hot coffee. “Would you help me hide a body?”

“Eric’s?” Jared guessed, and chuckled when he got a grunt in answer. “It’s just until tomorrow, you’ll live.”

Jensen groaned, rubbing at his head with a hand, draining the rest of his coffee into his mouth with the other. The fact it was scalding did little to faze him. “What’s up.” He finally gave in, in answer to his suspicion that Jared had been trying to get his attention.

“You doing anything Monday?”

Jensen frowned, tilting his head back as he leaned to one side in order to bring Jared into view. “Monday? We’ve not gotten the next script yet.”

Whereupon Jared promptly smacked him across the head with his rolled copy of the day’s script.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“It’s Valentine’s Day on Monday, we’ve got the day off after the party, or didn’t you get the memo?” Jared frowned.

Jensen glowered at him, shifting several feet away across the ground to put space between his head and that script. “You may remember I went through something called a bitter breakup and remain unattached.”

“I remember.” Jared’s frown didn’t go away. “I just don’t want you to end up going out for a date with Jack Daniels and Captain Morgan again like you did on Christmas.”

Jensen snorted unattractively. “Dude, don’t worry about it. I don’t need some chick holiday. _You_ do, ‘cause Gen will remove them one by one, but me? I’m looking at it as an extended weekend to feel like a man.”

“Just at least remember to come to the party, _man_.” Jared told him in good humor through a smile he was trying to hide. “But seriously, you should start thinking about putting yourself out there again.”

“Thinking.” Jensen deadpanned unconvincingly. Then, as the wind picked up with a subzero chill, swore loudly and fluently before cursing the cruel fact that by the time Jim and Misha were needed, the sun would already have risen and started warming everything up. It seemed entirely unfair that they didn’t get to suffer right along with him.

Even Jared had fallen silent to shivers, sliding down onto the ground with Jensen in order to huddle against the felled tree that was acting as a partial windbreaker. Mentally, he promised himself that if Jensen asked again, he would definitely help him hide a body.

 _…Three hours later…_

The wind had died down, the sun had risen, but the forest they were filming in only seemed to get colder in a complete contradiction of the natural order of things.

The one stroke of fortune was that their scenes mostly involved a great deal of movement. In the moment it was easy enough to warm up, to the point where Jim even began to sweat beneath the flannel. But it was getting increasingly harder to go back to moving once again after a ‘ _cut_ ’ had been called. The cold seemed to seep deeper into once-warmed muscles.

It was during one such break where Jim had gone in search of more coffee that Jared, Misha, and Jensen were leaning up against the hood of the Impala. The engine had recently been running and the metal was still blissfully warm.

“Andy Serkis deserves an Oscar.” Jensen decided as he blew into his cupped hands to try and warm frozen fingers.

Jared could only numbly agree, and was suddenly grateful that none of their scenes would involve splashing through frigid water.

“What about me?” Misha asked with a bit of a smirk, and nodded gratefully to Jim who passed him one of the cups of coffee he’d escaped the crew with.

“I don’t think they have awards for the best holy tax accountant.” Jensen informed him soberly as he leaned forward off the car and past Misha in order to grab a coffee off Jim with a grin. “Now Jim here, he deserves an award for coffee stealing.”

“Shaddup. You’re playing PA next time.” Jim rolled his eyes, though he was smirking underneath his moustache.

Jensen was still grinning as he went to lean back against the Impala, only to yelp and startle in shock as he came in contact with icy-cold metal. “Fuck!” He swore as he looked down at himself. He’d spilled at least half the coffee all over Dean’s leather jacket.

Costuming was going to have a field day at his expense.

“Smooth.” Jared cackled.

Groaning, Jensen drained back the remaining coffee before stomping away from them all so that costuming could relieve him of his head.

The coffee-spilling incident pushed all of his scenes back at least another hour while the coffee was being removed from the leather, which meant that he got to go sit hunkered down by the fallen tree as the scenes without him progressed forward. It also meant that he was without one layer of clothing.

A very essential layer.

Shivering, he pulled the script Jared had abandoned over to him, hoping to keep his mind off of the chill surrounding him and seeping into his very marrow. Logically he knew he should get up and move around, run laps, anything to keep him warm, but he wasn’t feeling too logical just now. Besides, he really should make sure he knew his upcoming lines. The sooner they were done shooting, the sooner he could crawl back to his trailer for a hot shower.

He was almost two-thirds of the way done with reviewing his lines when a tan trench coat invaded the right half of his vision and sat down next to him on the ground.

“Are you guys done already?” Jensen asked curiously, not looking up from the script.

Misha relaxed back against the trunk as he peered over at the script as well. “For now. Jared’s on the phone with Gen while we wait, and Jim went in search of food.”

“And you thought you’d make sure I hadn’t frozen?”

“Well you haven’t exactly been moving.” Misha frowned over at him. “You should have gone in your trailer and waited.”

Jensen shrugged, at least, he thought he did. It was the intended movement for shoulders stiff with cold. “I like watching.”

Misha grinned mischievously at the statement. “You kinky son of a bitch.”

Jensen rolled his eyes.

“You haven’t been watching though, you’ve been reading this thing.” Misha corrected as he snagged the script out of Jensen’s hands and set it aside.

“Were you watching me?” Jensen asked suspiciously. “Hoping I’d try and make you laugh so we could be out here freezing our asses off longer?”

Misha’s smile was unrepentant as his voice dipped to a gravelly low. “I’m always watching you, Jensen.”

Jensen blamed the shiver that flickered like hot flame through him on the cold. “Now who’s the kinky son of a bitch?”

Misha merely grinned disarmingly at him. That same grin that had nearly floored Jensen when he first saw it.

Jensen rolled his eyes again, and finally made an executive decision as the wind picked up again. Not giving Misha any time at all to even _register_ he’d moved, he’d managed to close the rest of the distance between them and fold himself under the nearest flap of tan trench coat, silently grateful it was so loose as to allow it.

Misha could only sit there in shock a moment, his mind slowly catching up to the fact that Jensen had somehow wormed his way inside Castiel’s trench coat with him, and once his brain had caught up, he found himself smiling again. This time resolutely. “Cold?” He teased as he reached up to wrap the left side of the coat a bit snugger around Jensen’s body up against him. “You really don’t waste time trying to get to second base.”

Jensen resisted the urge to smack him ‘round the head only because that would mean he’d lose his new warm spot. And Misha was _warm_. Fuck the leather jacket, he wanted a trench coat too if this was how warm it kept Misha. Maybe he could convince the writers to work that in somehow… “Everyone is already on second base with you.” He muttered from where his head rested on Misha’s chest, uncaring as to how this looked to anyone watching. He was warm, god damn it.

Misha let out a slow, sigh of a breath as he rested his left arm around Jensen’s back, anchoring him in. “True.” He agreed as he relaxed into the position, feeling the shared body warmth begin to ease the deeper aches out of his muscles. “Makes you wonder what’s on third.”

“Does it?” Jensen queried, sounding almost drugged as he indulged in the warmth that was causing the feeling to come back to his hands. He hadn’t even realized before now that he could barely feel them before.

“It should.” Misha replied quietly as he looked down at the dark brown hair that belonged to the squatter inside his trench coat.  

Jensen found himself frowning, and fighting the urge to look up. A fight which he won, as he didn’t move an inch from his warm haven until Jared came over to prod them apart with the news that they were ready to start filming again and that the leather jacket had been saved; and with a broad smirk had left them after one last smug looking observation of their arrangement.

“Thanks.” Jensen said as he extracted himself, a bit unwillingly, out from under the trench coat and Misha’s arm and the warm haven it had created.

Misha winked as he stood up and brushed himself off. “Anytime.”

Jensen hauled himself up from the ground as well, then headed over to find the salvaged leather jacket so they could resume filming. And when he tugged it on, he noted absently that it was not nearly as warm as Misha and the trench coat had been.

They managed to get through the rest of the scenes without coffee mishaps. Although there had been one instance during a short break where Jared had smirkingly asked if he could share Castiel’s trench coat as well, and had a feeling that Jensen’s resulting expression would end up on the season’s blooper reel.

At the point in time that Jensen was finally released from costuming, during which he’d received a short lecture on how spilling coffee on Dean’s costume was to be avoided, everyone else had already vanished back to their trailers. Most likely in search of food and warmth.

Which was exactly what Jensen set out to do, glad that they’d be heading back to civilization tomorrow.

When he got into his trailer, however, something was waiting for him on the small couch. As he picked it up he realized it was the memo Jared had mentioned earlier about the Valentine’s Day party. In Jared’s familiar handwriting were the words ‘stop stalling!’. Frowning at the tone of it, he tossed it aside and pushed it out of his mind as he went in search of a hot shower.

Wondering if the water would even be able to get warm; much less as warm as he’d been with Misha. Sometimes he felt as if Misha set all the universal standards.

 _…Four days later…_

Jensen had attempted to escape going to the Valentine’s Day party for the cast and crew. He had, truly. But he hadn’t counted on Jared enlisting Gen’s assistance in making sure he went. Honestly, Jensen was pretty much convinced that the casting director loved contradictions, because Genevieve could put the fear of God in him.

Or was that just a talent that women had in general? He wasn’t entirely sure… and this was no place to start becoming philosophical.

He was too busy trying to avoid the women he didn’t know. Eventually having found a far wall to prop himself against, half guarded by an immovable camera setup, and wishing the champagne in his glass was stronger.

Honestly, he was content to watch the affair from a safe distance. Although that distance didn’t have much effect on Jared not noticing that he’d retreated as far away as he could get.

“You got me here, give up whatever it is you’re thinking.” Jensen warned, clutching at his champagne glass as if it could save him from whatever nefarious thoughts that were in his best friend’s head.

An eyebrow crept up Jared’s forehead momentarily before he flopped back against the wall next to Jensen. “I know when to claim victory.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.” Jensen’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

Jared flashed a quick grin before holding his hand out. “You’ll be needing this. Misha is indulging the girls and you’re not looking nearly sour enough to drive even the bravest of them away from you.”

“Indulging?” Jensen echoed faintly, though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. Nor was he entirely sure why the notion of Misha indulging a bunch of girls made his stomach tighten.

“You’ll see.” Jared waggled his hand to make a point.

Looking down, Jensen saw a small paper sack being offered out to him. “And why do I need this, unless you intend to give me a bottle of scotch to hide inside of it?” He asked, even as he took it.

“Humor me.” Jared suggested, and took it upon himself to make his escape.

Jensen downed the rest of his champagne.

It was soon made apparent _just_ what Misha had vanished for, towing behind him a bunch of the females at the party. For soon they were back, unleashed unto the others who took it with good humor that they were being presented with handmade Valentine’s Day cards that showered everything they touched with an excess of glitter.

And Jared had been right, Jensen could not escape.

In light of that, he swallowed the urge to bolt and instead accepted all the cards graciously. Truthfully, he didn’t mind them so much from the girls he already knew, but it was those he didn’t that made him a bit nervous. But one by one his paper sack began to fill up with glittery cardstock as this select group of Misha’s Minions delivered the fruits of Misha’s indulgence.

“Let’s see.” Misha’s voice was suddenly there, causing Jensen to minutely startle as his hand was robbed of its paper sack containing the cards.

Jensen steadied himself, watching as Misha rifled through the sack. “You shanghaied a bunch of girls to make cards with them?”

Misha glanced up through his lashes, but didn’t straighten his head. “Jealous?” But didn’t wait for an answer as his attention turned back to the contents of the paper sack. “I am. You got more cards than me.”

Jensen shrugged his shoulders. Did Misha honestly think he had an answer to that? Besides, he was too busy wondering why he’d felt a perverse little leap of joy at Misha’s admission.

“I’ll just trade you!” Misha declared with incandescent joy lighting up his face, and shoved a much lighter paper sack into Jensen’s hand.

Jensen couldn’t help but laugh a little, and feeling infinitely curious, opened Misha’s paper sack to see the damage. What he saw left him utterly puzzled, and he reached inside to pull out the singular, glitter-covered card. “You only got one?” He asked with an amused grin, looking over at Misha with an arched brow. “Losing your touch, are you?”

Misha smiled indulgently, head tilting comically as he watched Jensen. “Maybe.”

Jensen felt his own head begin to mimic the tilt, looking back down at the card. On impulse, he flipped it open to see familiar handwriting staring him back in the face, all ending in a question.

‘ _I borrowed the trench coat. Interested?_ ’

When Jensen looked up from the card, piercing blue eyes were watching him with a seriousness that seemed almost out of place on Misha. It took him a moment to manage the ability to speak, and when he did he was rather proud his voice was steady. “What _is_ on third base?”

Misha slowly smiled, a flicker of the old vibrant energy returning to chase at the seriousness in his eyes. “You, if you want to be.” He propositioned without delay.

Jensen considered him for a moment, knowing and not caring that he was beginning to smile – probably foolishly. Then with a deft movement he folded the card again and dropped it back into the paper sack, only to grab his old one from Misha’s hand and drop it to the ground. “Did you drive yourself here?”

“No.” Misha smiled, not at all minding the mistreatment of the Valentine’s Day cards. Not if it meant that Jensen was suddenly seizing his hand instead in a firm grip and pulling him towards one of the exits.

“Good.” Jensen didn’t notice Jared smirking after them as he led away a willing Misha, but he wouldn’t have cared if he had. Misha’s hand was warm in his, a precursor to what he felt would be a very good Valentine’s Day.

Jared had been right, he needed to stop stalling.


End file.
